at first there were sounds around me,
listening was very important.

then i learned how to make sounds and talk
then it became hard to quip quiet,
then it was again so good to just listen
and then back to making sounds...
and that seems to be how things go for me.

 

small intervals of silence.
then the discovery and the reality of emotions and the connection between music and what happens inside of us.
and the expectation of a connection of what happens in the soul and the music that we make.

...

check music samples at: joaomusic.com/mp3
also: joao at myspace

purchase: joao music on iTunes.

...

In Brazil anyone who writes a song is a composer.
In Portuguese we don't really acknowledge the fine distinction between a serious composer and a songwriter.
A lot of composers where I come from, many great ones.

As so many things in my country, the frontiers are blurred.
One would be embarrassed to put names like Noel Rosa, Pixinguinha, Tom Jobim and Chico Buarque on a lesser category from Villa Lobos, Carlos Gomes...

Some say that everyone is a composer... we write improvised music as we talk, and the sounds we send into the world as we do things... weather we are aware of it or not.

Some say music is in the active act of listening only.

That's the place where I come from.

I started out writing songs and experimenting with different combinations of sounds and aspects of sound making.
Mixing found materials and old instruments with the crumbs of technology that I had access to.
I guess it was the unusual, often experimental, aspect of the songs I was writing that led me to filmmakers and the world of soundtracks.
Then back to the song-form.

Eventually I became less experimental, or rather I gained more control over the choice between familiar and surprising elements. I guess.

With time I found out that I could write for classically trained musicians.
This was like discovering a form of magic, that I could transmit my thoughts without words.
If I placed a piece of paper in front of them, they would play the exact same melodies I had in my mind.
Quite a remarkable experience.

I was mini-DJ at age 12. I started learning guitar, I learned a lot from some great players. I learned about drum machines and synthesizers from a friend, that opened up a whole new universe, pregnant with possibilities.

At some point I started working in studios and with synthesizers then computers I learned new instruments and I learned about structure, rhythm, melody and harmony.
I found that I could make the parts I had in mind happen. That led me back to other songwriters, and helping others materialize their dreams.
It's a great feeling to put one's talent to serve the vision of others.
The producer feeds from the composer who feeds from the performer, who feeds from the production process. It's all part of a single thing.
From the speakers back to the ear and then into the instrument, in cycles, like sounds waves really.

Making music. Printing a subtle change in the way atoms bounce around us.
Sometimes changing the mood of a room by plucking strings, or just pressing a button.


...

The Silent List, 1997.


Meditations on the Death of Silence, the origin and the Future of Music.
Dedicated to the loving smiling memory of John Cage.


1.


t he beauty of silence is unparalleled
my love for it is an overwhelming force
it asks no favors, demands no answers.

beauty lies in unsuspected places
beauty lies in the heart of an angel
thorn apart by the hands of the devil
beauty lies where i see it
in fallen trash-cans along my path.

beauty lies in a drop of sweat
falling from the fat face of the undeserving friend
as he grasps the hand of the betrayed hero.

the hero asks for no rewards, demands no answers,
he will not turn his back on his duty
though he might think he should.

there is beauty in the hero's eyes.
the hero can only accept as enemy
one who is at least equal in value to himself,
one who can contend with his greatness.

the hero will offer his hand to the wicked
he will give his body to the devil
he will only fight the best.

there is beauty in his action.
movement.

silence is the light that brightens my path
i am alive.

i can make music out of dead instruments
i can make music out of the refuse of western civilization
i write songs on trash-cans, junk metal, plastic boards.
i can communicate with nature, produce magic.

i cannot cure anybody, unless he wants to be cured.


i sing to empty valleys where other men have stepped before,
but where electricity has not arrived yet.
i mix my voice with the pink noise
produced by men on distant factories.

i sing to the trees
i sing to walls of concrete
i sing to the disturbing streets of a dark city
i sing to the ocean.

words are powerful tools
they can be loud
even when they are whispered,
even when they are pronounced in an obscure language
to a small illiterate audience,
even on a computer screen.

...

The Traveling Man and His Music Box

Quarteto - Live in the Studio, Rio de Janeiro